Pillow Talk
by Alphie
Summary: A series of fluffy Clois vignettes set in the Shadow-verse Being Jason White . Yes, that's right... fluffy. Some scenes contain more mature material than others.
1. The Five Senses

**Title:** Pillow Talk

**Chapter:** The Five Senses

**Rating:** Strong PG-13 for adult situations

**Word Count:** 2,085

**Spoilers**: SR and my own Shadow-verse

**Author's Comments**: This is totally random and fluffly and pointless and… there is no plot to this what so ever. I know this is very much unlike me as a writer, but hey, Clark just won't let me alone. I've never been really nice to him and he won't leave me alone until I get a few things out into the open. So here's what's up…

I have tons of these vignette moments in my head concerning Clois that I've figured out how to fit together. Like I said, there is no plot here. And I'm serious about that. But all these scenes happen within the few weeks following the fic "After All" in my Shadow-verse series. If you haven't read any of that stuff, sigh, you might get a bit lost, but oh well. And all of these scenes happen in the bedroom. Yeah. That doesn't mean they are all sexy, just that they are bedroom scenes.

This first chapter takes place a week after Lois and Clark get together, two days before Christmas. It is a bit naughty, but nothing too bad. It has not been beta read and it seems everyone that I've used as a beta reader is just too busy. So if you want the job, let me know. I need a beta reader! I have several of these little moments already written and can post rather frequently given there is an interest in this sort of thing. I figured with the angst and torture going on in the Little Secrets world, the fandom could use some fluff. LOL!

**The Five Senses (Fri Dec 23)**

It's amazing to me the difference one week can make. So many times the changes in my life have come down to the events that happen in the space of a week. It was one week from the time when Lois first discovered my secret, Zod had threatened the Earth, and we had been forced apart. In the space of one week, I returned to Metropolis, was nearly killed by Lex Luthor, and discovered I had a son. And now, in just one week's time, my relationship with Lois has gone from distant co-workers to that of an engaged couple.

Engaged.

Imagine that.

So here we were, lying in bed, completely naked and totally spent from making love. Not a bad way to spend a Friday night, in my opinion. Not a bad way to spend _any_ night in fact, which is why we spent every night this week just like this. There were the occasional times when I was needed elsewhere, but I always came back to her. As if there was any place I'd rather be. I'd waited too long to be here. I wasn't going to waste any more time.

Somehow, I ended up on my stomach with her lying next to me on her side, her fingers tracing little circles all over my back. She had taken a moment to run to the bathroom and grab something to drink. I took the time to stretch and relax into the pillows so much so that when she returned, she managed to snuggle up next to me before I even had a chance to roll over. Well, I could have, but there was something about the way she touched me that made me not want to move an inch. And so I didn't.

Her fingers were feather light as they flitted over my skin. Every now and then she would press her full hand against my back and drag her flattened palm across the small of my back, pushing the covers down in the process until my back side was completely exposed. All sense of modesty was wiped from my brain. I'd wanted her hands on my body for so long that I took great pleasure from her loving caresses. It felt wonderful. It felt more than slightly naughty. And I never wanted her to stop.

I turned my head to look over at her and slipped one of my legs over and between hers, making our position that much more intimate. She hummed thoughtfully and smiled in that devilish way that always left me breathless. She was up to something, I just didn't know what it was. But, oh boy, did I look forward to finding out. Finding out was the part I looked forward to the most.

The devious look in her eyes darkened, yet she never deviated from her course of action. She just kept stroking my back in lazy circles. I am a very patient man when it comes to the inner workings of Lois Lane's mind, but the more she smiled and the longer she touched me, the less willing I was to wait for an explanation.

"What's that smile for?" I asked, giving in to whatever torment I was sure was in store for me.

"Nothing."

I smirked at her. "It's something, you just don't want to tell me what."

"I'm happy. Aren't I allowed to be happy?" Her fingers continued to boldly roam over my skin.

"Of course. I like it when you're happy."

"Good, cause I am." Her eyes darted over my shoulders and down my back and then returned to my face. She quirked an eyebrow and bit at her bottom lip.

That confirmed it for me. "I know you, Lois. I know that look. I've seen it too many times. You're either up to something or you have a question on the tip of your tongue that you're afraid to ask."

She hummed again and shifted closer to me. "Guess I'm going to have to work on my poker face, huh?"

"So, which is it?"

She sighed and looked at her hand as it traced a path over my shoulders. "Do you feel this?"

"Feel…your fingers on my back?" I frowned. "Yes. Why?"

She then met my eyes with hers and placed her hand flat on my rear end. "How about that?"

I chuckled. "Yes."

"Okay, where is my hand then?"

I squinted at her. "On my bottom. Why?"

She hummed thoughtfully and resumed her caress.

Still at a loss over the questions I asked, "Was that a test to see if I would say the word 'ass', or did you have something else in mind?"

A small laugh escaped from her. "I love it when you swear."

"Are you going to tell me, or do I have to keep guessing?"

"Close your eyes."

Now I was really lost. "What?"

"Close your eyes," she repeated slowly and purposefully.

"Okay," I said, giving in to her request.

"You can't cheat and see through your eye lids, can you?"

I opened my eyes and smirked at her. "What is this all about?"

"Just close your eyes." Her tone was frustrated, so I didn't want to push it anymore.

With my eyes totally closed, I felt her shift away from me slightly and heard the covers rustle, which gave me the impression that she was sitting up more. Then very gently, very delicately, she touched my right shoulder with a finger.

"Where am I touching you?" she asked.

"On my right shoulder."

She hummed again removed her finger only to place it on my left arm near the elbow.

"And now?"

"Left elbow. What are you—"

"Shhhhh."

There was a moment of silence before she touched the crown of my head.

Before she could get to the obvious question, I asked, "Do I have something in my hair?"

"How do you do that?" she groaned.

"Do what?"

"Feel me. How can you feel my touch like that?"

I opened my eyes and rolled over onto my side to better look at her. "Why wouldn't I be able to feel you?"

She was sitting up, just as I had suspected, with a sheet barely coving her. And she looked just as frustrated as the timber in her voice alluded to. "You can walk through fire and not get burned. You can withstand being shot down by a machine gun. You don't feel any of that, and yet you can feel me touch you in softest way I know how."

Everything clicked in my head as I finally understood where she was going with all the touching and the questions. "Oh, I see," I sighed. "You really think I can't feel you."

"I don't see how you can? You don't feel fire or bullets. Why should you feel me?"

"First of all, that's a common misconception about me that I thought you knew about, Lois. Given that you raised Jason and he has a very similar pain tolerance to my own."

"Jason can feel pain."

"So can I, or have you never heard of Kryptonite?"

She smirked at me. "You know what I mean."

"Yes, I do, Lois," I said sitting up. "And you should know from all the time we've spent together as well as the fact that you watched Jason grow up that I can feel things. I feel the fire, but it doesn't burn me. I feel the bullets, but they don't penetrate my skin or really hurt me. I know the difference between a loving touch and a hateful punch. I _feel_ you, Lois." I pulled her close to me and ran my hand up and over her hip towards her breast. To drive home my point, I made sure my hips were aligned with hers to make her that much more aware of the way my body responded to having her close. "Did you think I've been faking this the whole time?"

She exhaled slowly. "I wasn't sure _what_ you felt. Really. Or how you even knew I was touching you."

Wanting to make my point totally clear, I shifted closer to her and kissed her on the mouth. "I can feel your touch. But you know, darling," I murmured as I kissed a path down her neck to the soft space between her breasts. "If you are that worried about it, then you need to remember that there are _other_ senses involved in love making than just touch."

As my mouth wandered over the sensitive skin at the tops of her breasts, the pounding in her chest increased drastically. "I can hear your heartbeat." With my palm lingering over her breast, I pressed my mouth over her beating heart. "I can hear how fast it's fluttering inside your beautiful body." I lightly squeezed her nipple and received a throaty groan of pleasure. "I can hear you sigh and breathe and moan as I touch you, love you."

I kissed the skin of her shoulder and neck, sucking it in just enough that I'd leave a mark behind. "I can taste you – taste your skin." My mouth wandered up to her ear lobe where again I nibbled gently with my teeth. And finally I moved over her mouth, plunging in repeatedly with my tongue as my desire for her increased. "I can taste the sweetness of your breath," I mumbled through a deep kiss.

She was pulling on me now, cradling my body between her thighs. I broke away to look down at her with hungry eyes. Even in the dim moon light, I could see that her hair was wild across the pillows and her skin was pink with arousal. "I can see you. Oh, God, Lois. You have no idea how extraordinary you are. What the sight of your naked body underneath mine does to me."

With a tug on my shoulders, she held me to her and kissed me as deeply and as passionately as I had been kissing her. She writhed beneath me, wrapping her legs around me and grinding her hips in the exact way that drove me out of my mind. Her body was totally open to me, begging me for release.

"And your smell." I growled, devouring her mouth in a bruising kiss. "You smell _so_ good."

"It's Dolce Vita… Dior" she panted out through kisses.

With my head buried against her neck and my hands guiding her hips to where I wanted them, I said, "I don't give a damn about your perfume."

I felt her stiffen and pull away slightly. "What? What are you…?" She gasped then as I drove my hips against hers. "Is _that_ what you are talking about?"

I hummed a yes and tried to kiss her again only to have her yank her moth away from me.

"You can… _you mean…_?"

She looked rather disgusted, which I found very funny. "Oh, trust me," I laughed, "there is nothing gross about it."

"Aren't you supposed to be a gentleman?"

"Aren't you supposed to be a modern and forward thinking woman?"

"That doesn't mean that I like knowing you can smell me!"

"Why not? It's probably the biggest turn on for me."

She made a face. "You're kidding?"

"I mean every word. To know that I have fully and completely aroused your body to the point where you are ready and willing to make love to me…" I sealed my mouth over hers, tasting the wetness of her mouth. My hands roamed over her hips and breasts. Her heart rate skyrocketed as did her breathing. "This is everything to me. _You_ are everything."

I felt I'd more than adequately proved my point to her. I could feel her. I reveled in the feel of her. All five of my senses were tuned into her. To make sure there was no doubt in her mind, I made love to her with as much passion and love as my heart could express. And when we were once again sweaty and spent from our efforts, I collapsed on top of her to mumble into her ear, "Now, do you believe that I can feel you?"

Her breath was heavy. "I don't know," she panted. "I might need you to convince me again."

Slowly, I dragged my mouth over hers in a languid kiss. "Anytime."

"Promise?" She squeezed my bottom.

"Promise," I swore, mimicking the word and the action

Needless to say, we did not get very much sleep that night. But then, who's complaining?


	2. Sunlight

**Title:** Pillow Talk

**Chapter:** Sunlight

**Rating:** PG-13 for adult situations

**Word Count:** 1,052

**Spoilers**: SR and my own Shadow-verse

**Summary:** "I took the sun away, didn't I? The one thing that you need and I took it away."

**Author's Comments**: _This is a quickie and something I've seen in my head for a long time. In fact, I refer to this in a one shot that I did a while back called "The Article." Thanks go to the few of you who reviewed the first section: Willa1317, Lilbit4, lere, Nanou1983, JJ the elusive, Kairan1979, Eviefan, and lilyoftheval5. I didn't think anyone would read it but I still had to get this stuff out of my head! And thanks to htbthomas and Eviefan for the beta read. It makes me feel better when it's been given the once over._

**Sunlight (Sun Jan 8)**

I was asleep. Soundly, deeply asleep. It had been an easy night. I'd managed to go to bed with Lois at a reasonable time, and it felt so good to be asleep now. Actually, I was just waking up from a deep sleep, but fought it all the way as I slipping into consciousness. I only slept this deeply for a few hours at night when it was pitch black outside and the majority of the world around me was asleep as well. That was why it surprised me to hear sounds of life, activity going on around me. More surprising than that, Lois was awake. I could tell from her heart beat and the aroma of fresh coffee.

But it was dark outside. And a Sunday. Why would Lois ever get out of bed before sunrise on a Sunday?

I blinked my eyes to find her sitting up in bed next to me, reading e-mails and text messages on her phone and sipping a mug that read, "Babe In Total Control Of Herself" on the side. She smiled down at me, placed both the phone and the mug on her bed side table, and snuggled up against me.

"Good morning, sleepy head."

"Morning," I grumbled. "Why are you awake?"

"Because my stomach growled and demanded to be fed. So I grabbed a piece of toast and came back in here to wait for you to wake up so we can go get a real breakfast."

"What time is it?"

"Almost ten."

Her statement left me floored. "Ten?" I looked over at the window where it was dark with no sign of any sunlight.

"Darkening curtains. And blinds. I put them in while you were in South Africa the other day. I thought it might be nice to sleep in on Sunday. And since you always wake up with the sun, I figured this would be the only way to do that." She kissed me quickly. "Looks like I was right."

Ten in the morning. And the sun had set around seven o'clock last night.

"That explains it then," I groaned as I stretched my body and rolled over onto my stomach. My yawn was muffled as I buried my face in my pillow.

"Something wrong?" Lois asked.

"No. Just that it's been…" I yawned again, "about fifteen hours since I've seen the sun."

She gasped and I felt her body stiffen beside me. "Are you… okay? I mean, should I open the blinds?"

I yawned again. "No, I'm fine."

"Really, Clark. I can open them." She set her mug down and pulled the covers back as she started to get out of the bed. "Damn. I should have known better."

"Lois," I reached for her, "I'm fine, really."

"Are you sure?" Concern dripped from her voice.

"I'm sure."

"I just wanted to sleep in. That was all."

"I know."

She scooted closer to me, but still felt tense. "I took the sun away, didn't I? The one thing that you need and I took it away."

"Sweetheart, you didn't take it away," I chuckled. "It's still there."

"You are so right that I should have known about this. Jason was always awake at daybreak. Always. I feel so stupid."

I pulled her to me and placed my hand lightly over her mouth. "Will you stop that? I'm fine. I'm not used to being in the dark for so long, but you don't have to worry about it. I've been without the sun for longer than this and all it took was a quick flight to get me back to normal. This is_ not_ a big deal, Lois."

The frown on her face only deepened. "You've been without sunlight longer than this?"

Had I said that? Crap…

"When?" she asked.

I sighed, telling the first half truth that came to mind. "When I went to Krypton. I was away from the yellow sun for years."

Her eyes narrowed. "No. What aren't you telling me?"

I looked into her worried eyes, knowing that what I was about to say would not make her feel any better about the situation, but that if I didn't tell the truth she would only grow angry at me.

"When I told you who I really was."

The frown on her face was replaced by a look of sadness and regret. "You mean when I told you I never wanted to see you again. Shit," she said with a scowl.

"Lois, please, it's not—"

"I knew you had left. No one saw you anywhere. And Jason all but freaked out when I told him you were gone. Where did you go?"

I rolled over and took in a deep breath. "Kansas. I went to the farm and just…" Swallowing hard I said, "I closed all the shutters and made the house as dark as I could get it. Then I went into the den and lay down and waited."

"For what?"

With pursed lips, I shrugged at her. "I didn't know what else to do."

"How long where you there?"

"A week or so. Jason… came and basically told me to snap out of it."

Lois brushed my bangs away from my face and chewed at the inside of her lip. "Jason, huh?"

"Yes. And you know what? As horrible as that moment was for my relationship with you, it was actually a huge step forward in my relationship with Jason. Strange how that works."

"I bet you thought you'd never be able to please us both," she smiled sadly.

I closed my eyes and nodded. "That's exactly how I felt."

She slid down on the mattress and snuggled up against me. "God, we really did a number on you, didn't we?" Her hands slid around my waist and she pressed a gentle kiss on my neck.

"I… you both… I just…" I shook my head and made a conscious decision not to fall in the regrets of the past. "Can we just enjoy the fact that we get to sleep in this morning and forget about all the rest?"

Her smile was still a bit sad, but she didn't dwell on it. Instead she kissed me in agreement, thus sealing the deal that we would stay in bed together for at least another hour… or two.


	3. The Naked Truth

_AN: This is about s sexy as these are going to get, so you are warned in advance that this is HEAVY PG-13. HEAVY._

_With that said, thanks to the few of you still reading and reviewing. I feel its almost the fandom's responsibility to keep posting stories and reviewing them just in case someone at WB might take a look and see that we are still interested and that we enjoyed the storyline of SR. Sigh… so thanks go toBuilt on the Horizon, JJ the elusive, Lilbit4, and Eviefan for reviewing. And to Eviefan for beta reading, too, and putting up with me as a needy writer. _

**Naked Truth (Sat Jan 14)**

Two house fires. One bank robbery. A car explosion. A collapsed bridge. Kids lost on a mountain. Just a few tasks in the never ending cycle of hero work. When I'd manage to finish with one problem, I would become aware of another. I'd lived like this my whole life and I'd hardly ever complained about it. After all, I didn't have that much else to do but help people in trouble.

But things were different now. I had a place to be at night. I had someone to be with. Someone I wanted to be with more than anything. Yet I had to stay focused on my mission. I promised myself I would make it up to her. I tried every night to make it up to her. And so far she hadn't complained. Still, I knew that complaint was coming.

So tonight when I arrived home, after being gone virtually all day, I was very ready to hear that complaint. I scanned the house to find her in the bathroom putting lotion on her legs. She was naked and her hair was up in a towel. Dear God, she was so beautiful.

She didn't seem upset or out of sorts in anyway, so I took advantage of her calm demeanor and quietly entered the house intent on surprising her. It wasn't quite ten o'clock yet. Maybe this way whatever argument she may have in store for me could be brief. Maybe she would forgive me more readily if I swept her off her feet and carried her to bed before she could even get her pajamas on.

Very quietly I changed out of my clothes and slipped into the bathroom behind her. She had her back to the door, so she didn't see me until she caught my reflection in the mirror.

"Clark!" she squealed and grabbed at her towel to wrap it around her body.

Before she could cover herself, I pulled her against me kissing her deeply.

"Wait," she said, still trying to get the towel around her.

"I'm sorry I was gone all day," I mumbled against her mouth as I tugged the offending towel aside, picked her up, and carried her into the bedroom. "I know you hate that."

I placed her gently on the bed and she hurriedly scampered under the covers. "I'm not upset."

"Good." I crawled in next to her.

"I know you have to take care of things as they come at you."

My hand slid over her hip. "I do, and I'd like to take care of _you_ now."

"You have no control over when—"

I planted another deep kiss on her mouth, stopping her from making any other sound but a sexy moan of desire. Brushing the covers out of the way, I explored the curves of her body as my tongue made love to her mouth.

"Wait," she gasped, tugging on the covers again.

"I don't want to wait," I said, pulling them away from her again and blazing a path of kisses over her shoulders and neck.

"Just turn off the lights, first."

"Why? I want to see you."

"Please, just turn off the lights."

There was an edge to her voice that I couldn't quite place. She sounded almost frightened, which made me instantly worried. "What's wrong?" I said, taking a break from my kisses to look down at her.

To my shock, she wouldn't fully meet my eyes. She tugged at the covers again, shifting to try to cover herself, and only briefly allowing me to see the shame hiding behind her expression. It was fleeting, but it was there.

Which left me more than slightly confused.

"Lois?"

"It's nothing," she fawned a smile. "Let's just turn off the lights and pick up where we left off."

Before her hand could reach the bed side lamp, I caught it, halting its progress. "I like the lights on."

She inhaled and gave me that look that said she was screwing up all her courage and giving the brave face. "Alright. We'll… keep the lights on then."

She blinked, smiled tentatively, and repositioned herself underneath me. Somehow, the action made it seem as if she were shrinking. Or maybe that she was trying to shrink. Whatever it was, it wasn't at all like her.

"What's going on?" I asked.

"Nothing. Just… let's forget it." She kissed me, pulling me closer to her, using my body to cover her.

It wasn't as if I minded the position. Not at all! I liked being here. What bothered me was the way she continued to keep herself covered. Instead of stretching out and using her body the way she normally did when we made love, she kept to herself. Like she was closing in on herself. Which didn't fit at all. Lois Lane was larger than life. She enjoyed the spot light – sought after it and reveled in it. Why would she be trying to hide now? And from me?

"Close your eyes," she mumbled against my lips.

Which sealed the deal for me. "Okay, that's it," I said somewhat sharply. "What is going on with you?" I sat up and almost immediately she grabbed for the covers and pulled them over her naked body.

"What do you mean?"

It was as if she didn't want me to see something on her body. "Did you get a tattoo… or a piercing you don't want me to see?"

"What? No! I don't have any tattoos. That's… why would you… no. That's… it's…no."

Now she was stuttering. Something was really off. "Why don't you want me to see you? Why do you keep covering yourself up?"

She wet her lips and held my stare. "I just… um… I'm not… who I used to be, Clark."

I pulled my brows down in confusion. "Meaning?"

"My… body. It's… you know."

"Beautiful?"

She rolled her eyes and growled. "Don't be like that? Don't be the innocent farm boy now."

"I'm not. I'm telling the truth."

"Oh, please. I am not some spring chicken. I'm not saying I'm dog meat, but I'm not going to win any beauty pageants, either."

I couldn't hold in the laugh at that image.

Her face flushed. "See, you get it now. My body is… old."

"Wait a minute! That is not why I'm laughing. The thought of you, a self professed women's libber, at a beauty pageant wearing a skimpy hot pink dress and over sized earrings, answering questions about world peace and your favorite thing to do on a date, is just too good to ignore. It has nothing to do with how beautiful you are."

From the expression on her face, I could tell she wasn't convinced. "I'm in my fifties, Clark. I'm glad you find me attractive, but I know what my body looks like."

"So, do I," I said darkly. "I've seen you naked. I_ like_ you naked. We've spent hours and hours together being naked. What's the big deal all of a sudden?"

"You want to keep the lights on!" she lashed out quickly. "We've only ever made love in the dark."

"We've made love in the morning."

"Yeah, and there have been covers… as well as foggy morning pre-caffeine brain."

I made a face at her. "You're joking, right? You think that because it's been dark or I haven't had a cup of coffee that I haven't been able to see your body?"

She shrugged and looked down at her fingers, which were still holding the covers close to her body.

"You are aware I have X-ray vision, aren't you?" I teased.

But she wasn't in a playful mood. "I am aware that you are too much of a gentleman to go looking through a woman's clothing when you weren't invited to do so."

"Wow. Here I thought that you accepting my marriage proposal and making love to me repeatedly was kind of an open invitation to see you naked. I guess I was wrong."

Her shoulders slumped. "Don't be an ass, Clark. You know what I mean."

"And you should know that I do think you are beautiful."

Again her eyes rolled back into her head as she shook it in disagreement.

"Well, you're just going to have to convince me," I sighed. "Show me what is so very offensive about your body that I couldn't possibly want to see you naked with all the lights on."

"I'm old, for one thing."

"Hardly," I chuckled. "You make it sound like you're geriatric!"

"Compared to you, I am. You don't look any different from the first time we made love!"

"I'm older, too."

"I have grey hair," she said.

"So do I."

She scowled. "Oh, you do not."

I tipped my head down so that she could see the crown. "Look. Little flecks of grey all though it."

With a snort she said, "You think three little flecks can compare to the fact that I've been dying my hair every six weeks for the last ten years?"

"Name a woman in the public eye who doesn't?"

She sneered at me. "You have no wrinkles. I do."

"Look at my eyes. There are wrinkles around my eyes. And on my forehead."

"Those are natural."

"And they are more pronounced than they were ten years ago," I countered.

"Yeah well, pronounced doesn't begin to describe mine. I use lotions and creams and make up to cover mine up. I'm seriously considering botox."

"You want your face frozen?"

"If it means I won't age for a while so that I can compare to you? Yes."

My eyes were the ones that rolled this time. "You're being silly."

"Am I? Have you seen your body? Are you aware of how perfect the muscles are? The shape? You have no fat, no cellulite, no excess baggage, no stretch marks!"

"Stretch marks?"

"From pregnancy. My stomach is the worst offender to the beauty issue."

"Why are you even comparing yourself to me?" I puzzled.

"Because I know that your body is standing still in time while mine is rapidly deteriorating. Very soon, sooner than you care to admit, I'm going to be old and decrepit and you are still going to look like a cover model."

"You will never be decrepit," I said evenly.

"Yes, I will be. These little flaws that you brush off now will just get bigger, making our differences that much more obvious. And then what will happen? What will happen to us?"

It was as if a gun had gone off in the room silencing the conversation, for that was the whole point of her worry and fear. That was at the crux of the matter. I understood it now. No matter how strong of a woman Lois was, she was as susceptible to insecurities as everyone else. She thought that as she grew older I would grow less attracted to her.

How very wrong she was.

"Lois," I said, letting my hand trail down her cheek to her shoulder. "What will happen is that I will continue to love you. I will always love you. If you think my love for you is based solely on your appearance, you are very wrong. I love your strength, your wit, your talent as a reporter. I love that you won't let anything stop you from getting what you want. I love you for everything that makes you who you are."

"I know," she sighed. "You've never really been the type to go after brainless hot chicks. But as much as I appreciate that, a part of me wants to be… somewhat of a hot chick. Not brainless, but the hot chick part is appealing."

I gazed into her eyes, hoping she could feel the weight of my words when I said, "You are very sexy, Lois."

She shook her head no. "I _was_, sure. But now… don't make me list the flaws all over again."

"Let's see, what were they? Grey hair?" I ran my fingers through the mass of thick hair flowing around her shoulders. "I don't care what color it is. It's long and it's thick and it smells good. And if tomorrow it was all gone, I'd still love you."

She smirked at me.

"Wrinkles? Wasn't that next? When I first met you, I thought you were about five years younger than you really were. Now I see a mature, competent woman who has lived her life to the fullest and still looks young for her age. In fact, a few months ago I heard someone you were talking to accuse you of lying to them when you said you had a grown son. You do not look your age, Lois. You never have and you never will."

"Fine," she gave in with a flip of her hair and slumped down under the covers. "I suppose. But you will never convince me that you don't notice the imperfections on my body."

"I never said I didn't notice them," I correct.

She blinked up at me. "Great. So you do know they are there."

"Yes, I do," I confirmed, slowly pulling the covers down so that I could see her delicate form. "Like you said, Lois, you had a baby." I traced her shape down her shoulder, over her round breast, and rested my hand on her belly. "You're body is different."

She stiffened, and a shameful look came over her face.

"But that doesn't mean I don't think your body is beautiful for it."

Before she could ask me what I meant, I leaned over her and kissed her deeply. My hand repeated the path up and down her body, following her feminine curves. "Your body carried our baby, Lois. This amazing, fragile, gorgeous body of yours sheltered him, nurtured him, and gave him life."

With hot kisses my mouth covered the same route my hands had been taking. I lingered at her breasts, reveling in how soft they were. She moaned as my lips drifted lower until I circled my tongue around her belly button. Then I stopped deliberately over her stomach, focusing on the tiny marks on her skin.

"These stretch marks that you find so offensive," I started, "are the proof, Lois. These nearly imperceptible marks are the only physical sign that I have that you were ever pregnant. We loved each other and this was the result. How could I ever think they were ugly?"

Proving my point, I delicately kissed each and every mark on her skin repeatedly until Lois's heart rate was such that I knew she was convinced. She pulled me up to her mouth for a passionate kiss. She wantonly opened her body to me, completely unashamed and desperate to bring the whole conversation to a euphoric conclusion.

I gladly obliged.

The lights stayed on for most of the night as we took turns exploring each other. I hoped that she would never again worry about these issues, but I knew it was only a matter of time before I'd have to remind her that I would always love her regardless of the color of her hair.

The next evening, even though I had to be in Italy to take care of an earthquake, I made sure she would find a rose and a note waiting for her on her pillow. I don't know what she thought when she read it, but I do know that she kept it. As unsentimental as she tries to appear, she kept the note and the rose pressed between the pages of her copy of "The Elements of Journalism."

My dear Lois –

The words are not mine, but I could find no better way to fully express of how much I love you. So forgive me for stealing from Thomas Moore.

Believe me, if all those endearing young charms,

Which I gaze on so fondly today,

Were to change by to-morrow, and fleet in my arms,

Like fairy gifts fading away

Thou wouldst still be adored as this moment thou art,

Let thy loveliness fade as it will,

And around the dear ruin, each wish of my heart

Would entwine itself verdantly still.

It is not while beauty and youth are thine own,

And thy cheeks unprofaned by a tear,

That the fervor and faith of a soul can be known,

To which time will but make thee more dear.

No, the heart that has truly loved, ne'er forgets,

But as truly loves on to the close,

As the sunflower turns on her God, when he sets,

The same look which she turned when he rose.

I love you!

Clark


	4. Twenty Questions

_AN: I don't know if anyone is still reading this or can even remember what all happened in my AU, but this fic going unfinished from my original plan is eating at my heart. So I'm posting this more for me than for you. That said… if you DO remember my AU, this is the answer to a question I was asked many times over the years. (Yes, years folks. It's been that long since Superman Returns started all this fan fic writing for so many of us. Sigh…) _

_Anyway, I'm sure I will take a bit of a hit for this one as it kind of goes against what Superman stands for, but this is how it played out for me. _

_Thanks to kalalanekent and anissa for reading it over and katshakespeare for catching the typos._

**Twenty Questions (Jan 22****nd**** Sun)**

"Coke or Pepsi?"

The random question completely caught me off guard. "Huh?"

"Coke or Pepsi?" she repeated.

I turned my head and looked up at her over my shoulder. She smiled angelically back at me, which is never a good sign from Lois.

"I don't get it?"

She huffed at me but continued to draw lazy circles on my bare back while I lay on my stomach with my head comfortably buried in my pillow. She'd been doing this for quite some time now and I was rather enjoying the sensations, but the question was just so far from anything I expected this evening.

"It's a simple question, Clark. Coke or Pepsi?"

"You know I can't promote products. It isn't right for Superman to—"

"I'm not talking product promotion. I'm just asking a simple question."

I peeked up at her over my shoulder, curious as to her motives. Lois _always_ had motives behind questions. She was a reporter down to the marrow of her bones. There was no such thing as a simple question.

"Is this a trick?" I asked, still suspicious.

She actually grunted at me. "Good God, Clark. Every single person on this planet has a drink preference when it comes to soda. Do you like Coke or Pepsi better?"

"Coke," I replied softly.

I was granted another saintly smile. "Was that so hard?"

"Just don't tell the Pepsi people."

"Right, because the Pepsi company will fall apart if Clark Kent endorses Coke," she teased.

"You know what I mean."

"Uh huh." She kissed my shoulder and continued her tactile exploration of my back. "Plain or peanut M&M's?"

Again, I frowned in puzzlement but decided to go with it rather than fight through it. "Peanut."

"Sausage or pepperoni pizza?"

"Are you planning a menu?"

"No," she groaned. "I'm just curious."

"Well, can I have both on my pizza or do I just have to pick one?"

"Just one."

"Then in that case, pepperoni."

"The Beatles or the Rolling Stones?"

I made a face, because neither was really my style. "Um…Beatles?"

Lois laughed at my lack of enthusiasm.

"Marilyn Monroe or Audrey Hepburn?"

_That_ one was easy. "Lois Lane," I stated matter-of-factly.

"Good answer," she said, giving my torso a squeeze. "Kirk or Picard?"

"Oh, no!" I whimpered. "Now, you're asking really tough questions!"

Her musical laugh told me she planned that question just because she knew I'd have a hard time deciding, but it was cut short and replaced with a look of determination that could not be avoided.

"Okay," I sighed, "I'm going with Picard, but that's just because I think he negotiates better in a stressful situation. Kirk was still an excellent captain!"

"Duly noted. Football or baseball?"

Another tough one. "Hum…. Football, and that's because I could fake my way through a baseball game. Football… no so much. The moment someone tries to tackle me they end up getting hurt and asking questions. So, I've never really played football and I've always wanted to."

Lois rolled her eyes and proceeded on to the next question. "Summer or winter?"

"Summer."

"Ice cream or cotton candy?"

"Ice cream."

"Monopoly or chess?"

"Chess."

"Did you kill Lex Luthor?"

For a moment I wasn't sure I had heard her correctly. "What?"

"Did you kill Lex Luthor?" she repeated slowly, softly.

I don't know what stunned me more – that she'd asked all these silly questions as a lead in or that she'd asked the question at all. And why now? After all these years?

Our eyes met, hers begging for understanding, mine worried about how she would respond to the answer. It was, after all, the one thing I had hoped I would never have to tell her. Still pondering over how to explain myself, I slowly turned over onto my side so I could better look at her.

"I don't care, one way or the other," she said gently. "I just want to know."

"You wouldn't ask if you didn't care about the answer."

She pulled her lips between her teeth and took a deep breath. "I read every report I could find about his death. It didn't make much sense that he'd die from a fall. And you were different around me after his death – and different around Jason, too."

"He knew about Jason," I said. "You and I talked about it a few times."

"I was always terrified Luthor would do something to him."

"So was I."

"So you killed him." She didn't ask this time.

After a long, heavy pause I said, "It isn't what you think. I didn't hunt him down."

"Okay…"

"Do you remember the kidnappings? The ones supposedly done by Mary Anne Bishop?"

"The woman who blamed you for her daughter's death?"

"Yes."

"I remember being on edge about Jason, as most parents were at that time. Then she was arrested for the kidnappings, and everything calmed down a bit."

I nodded in agreement. "Do you remember what happened to her?"

"Yes. She died a few days before her trial. Killed herself."

I held onto Lois gaze willing her to change her thinking of the whole situation as I started in on the explanation. "She didn't kill herself. She was murdered. Luthor made it look like a suicide."

Lois sat up straight. "Luthor?"

"He was the one who was really behind the kidnappings. He just used Mary Anne Bishop as a cover and promised her loads of money if she served as the front man."

"Why?"

"Because Luthor didn't want the attention of the media for once. He wanted _my_ attention." Lois shook her head, still not understanding. "Each one of the children I rescued had a note with them for me. I made sure the press never found out about the letters because they were all cryptic messages about Jason."

"Jason?"

"Luthor knew Jason was my son and was plotting to tell any criminal who would listen that Superman had a weakness more powerful than kryptonite. He was threatening me by threatening Jason. When Mary Anne Bishop landed behind bars, she was going to spill everything she knew about Luthor to the authorities. He wouldn't be able to fulfill whatever grand scheme he was planning if the police were tracking him for kidnapping. So he had Bishop killed."

I could tell that the wheels were spinning in Lois's head as she processed everything. "But that doesn't explain how _he_ died."

"He had to clean up after Mary Anne Bishop. She had computer files, e-mails, records about her dealings with Luthor. He went into her office building looking to erase whatever she had on her computer about him. I was there doing some personal interviews with people who had known her to fill out an interest story Perry assigned me. I saw through Luthor's disguise and followed him into the stairwell."

I stopped, uneasy about telling Lois the rest.

Leading me to continue, Lois said, "The reports said he fell down the stairs to the basement. That it was an accident."

I blinked and looked away.

"It wasn't an accident, was it?"

"Yes… and no," I finally said. "We had some choice words for each other. He basically told me he was going to make Jason's life a living hell unless I allowed him to do whatever horrible things he wanted to do to other people. He even dared me to stop him - to kill him." I swallowed. "I yelled at him, which startled him and shook the building a bit. He slipped. He fell. I didn't even try to catch him." My voice was just a whisper when I finished.

I kept my eyes focused on Lois, watching every emotion cross her face as she thought long and hard about what I'd told her. I waited, not saying anything, for her to form her own opinion.

"Why didn't you tell me?" she asked, softly.

"Luthor was dead and Jason was safe. I was there when Perry told you. I saw the relief on your face and knew you had all the information you needed. The rest of it would just make you culpable if ever you were questioned. Luckily, you never were. _I_ wasn't even questioned. I mean, as Superman. I think the world had had enough of Lex Luthor that it was a relief for everyone that he was gone."

She nodded, but I could tell she didn't fully agree with me. "Does Jason know?"

"No," I said firmly. "Until now, no one knew." I sighed. "I'm not proud of it, but I'm not sorry for it, either. It was Jason's life or Lex Luthor's… and I chose Jason. I'd do it again."

Lois wet her lips and slid closer to me. She put her hands on either side of my face and looked into my eyes, searching for something that I hoped I could show her. After a minute or two, she pulled me to her for a solid, firm kiss.

"I love you."

I closed my eyes.

"Look at me," she said, and I obeyed. "I love you. This is one choice you made that I'm not going to question or fight about. From this moment on, we are never going to talk about this again."

A small smile formed on her lips, pulling a similar smile out from me.

"I love you," she repeated.

"I love you, too."

"I have one more question for you."

"Okay."

"Will you just hold me for a while?"

Without hesitation, I pulled her body against mine and sank down into the warmth of the bed. Her hands caressed my back and sides, and her legs tangled with mine. It was a long while before she fell asleep. I didn't sleep at all.


	5. Insatiable

_AN: Been a VERY long time, hasn't it? This is the last one of these bedroom conversations that I've had in my head. And I must say, this is the naughtiest one, too! I've gone ahead and changed the rating on the whole fic to R because of this chapter. I wasn't going to add this chapter just because I didn't want the fic to go into the R rating, but I just had to put this out there as a Valentine's day treat for all of you. I hope you like the naughty pillow talk in this chapter. And as of now, this fic is considered finished. _

_Also, this chapter isn't beta read, so if you find any glaring mistakes, please let me know as gently as you can and I will fix them up! LOL! _

**Insatiable** (Wed. Feb. 24)

Tumbling over the climax into the peak of pleasure, my body fell on top of hers, covering her small frame nearly completely with my own. I gasped for breath, utterly spent from our love making. Our naked chests pressed together with hearts hammering away in near unison. Her hands, once grasping at my sides, and her legs, once squeezing around my hips, fell with a soft thump against the mattress. I breathed in her scent, tasting the saltiness of her skin as I placed a kiss on her shoulder.

"Am I too heavy?" I softly panted.

"No," she breathed.

We lay like that until our hearts started to calm and our breathing returned to near normal. After a few minutes, my lips found her neck, her ear, and her shoulder again. I sipped at her skin, enjoying the feel of having her beneath me and wondering how in the name of all that is holy I had ever managed to live without her.

She moaned, which brought my attention to her face. I rose up enough to see her closed eyes and her lips turned up in a satisfied, barely-there smile. I kissed the corner of her mouth and mumbled, "You ok?"

She chuckled, "Why do you always ask that?"

"Because I don't—"

She cut me off with a slap on my rear. "If you ever hurt me, I would let you know. So stop asking."

We kissed. Again. And again. The lazy post coital kisses of two people who simply couldn't get enough of each other's kisses. Until the kisses deepened and intensified. Until passion began to flare yet again.

"Ummmm… God…" Lois groaned against my mouth. "You are seriously insatiable."

"Is that a bad thing?" I grinned.

"Hey, I'm not complaining, just stating the obvious."

I kissed my way down her throat to her collarbone and lower to her chest. I worshiped the rounded swell of her breasts with my mouth and nuzzled against her cleavage, listening to her heart rate as it started to pick up speed once more. "This is my favorite part of your body," I said, my hand lightly grazing the side of her breast.

"Men are always so fascinated with boobs," she stated.

"That's because we don't have them." I kissed each breast and then looked up into her dark eyes. "We're fascinated with everything that's different about women." I emphasized my point with a small push of my hips against her center.

"I see that," she sighed. "I have to tell you, in all honesty, I have never had this much sex. Ever. Even when I was a teenager."

I furrowed my brow. "How old were you when you first had sex?"

"Sixteen. And it was horrible."

"My first time was amazing," I said, kissing her breast again. "So was my second time. And the third."

She laughed. "So you've never had bad sex?"

I looked up at her and didn't say a word, which only made her laugh more.

The vibration of her laughter sent a shock wave to my groin, and I kissed her deeply, letting my tongue suggest the action I wanted to take with other parts of my body.

"God, you're just _ravenous_ when it comes to sex!" she exclaimed.

I rose up on my arms so I could look down at her. "You say that as if it's hard to believe."

"Well…"

"Well what? I spent years without you. I'm not wasting another moment."

"But that's just it. You spent years without any sex."

I frowned. "What's your point?"

"It's hard to believe."

"What is?"

"That someone with such an unquenchable sex drive would go for so long without sex."

"I swear to you, Lois, I have never made love to anyone but you."

"But did you have sex?"

"I just said I didn't."

"No, Clark, you said you didn't make love. That's different from sex."

I smirked. "No part of my body has ever entered another person's body. How about that?"

She tilted her head from side to side. "Ok. But it's still hard to take in."

"Why?" I kissed her mouth. "Why is it so hard to believe…" I kissed her neck. "…that I loved you so much…" I kissed the other side of her neck. "…that I didn't want…" I kissed her shoulder. "…to be with anyone else?" I kissed her breasts.

"Because it was so long. Decades. We make love two, three times a night. It's hard to comprehend how a man with your sexual appetite went that long without an orgasm."

The kisses to her chest and mid-section never faltered. "I never said I didn't have an orgasm."

I could feel the change in her body. "What?"

By now I was kissing her stomach and swirling my tongue around her belly button. "You don't have to have intercourse to have an orgasm, Lois."

"_What_?"

I stopped and smiled at her. "It's called masturbation, Lois. I'm sure you've heard of it."

She blinked, gaping back at me. "Of course I've heard of it, I just… I mean… I never thought… I mean… _you_? You did?"

I couldn't resist laughing at her now. "What did you think? I mean, come on." I curled up next to her side. "I'm a man, Lois. I'm not human but I still get turned on the same way. And it gets frustrating. There's only so much a man can take before he has to relieve some of the frustration of not being able to be with the woman he loves."

"But you're so… so… good. Decent. Moral."

"Yes, I have morals. That's why I never slept with any other woman. Which is why I was frustrated. Which is why I would take care of things on my own."

She shook her head, an astonished smile on her face. I figured she needed some more convincing.

"You wear the sexiest clothes to work. Tight skirts with slits that show your whole leg. Plunging neck lines. And that one silk blouse. Oh man." I rolled my eyes back into my head. "That peach silk blouse was always torture. You wouldn't wear a bra sometimes, and if the air conditioning hit you just right, well… a man doesn't need X-ray vision to see what's going on underneath. It was pure torture."

She rolled onto her side, looking at me in shock. "You're kidding me? I never knew that my clothes turned you on."

"Lois, seriously. Everything about you turns me on. Always has. I just… couldn't show it. And flying with you…" I crumbled back against the bed. "Having you in my arms with you holding onto me. I always had to take a moment after flying with you."

She gasped. "You mean you would take _that_ kind of a moment… after flying with me?"

"No," I grinned. "Well, not every time. It was more like a moment to um… calm myself down. You know."

She smirked. "Talk yourself out of a raging erection."

"Yes," I chuckled. "Exactly."

"Well, what do you know/"

"What?"

"I thought I was the only one."

"Only one what?"

"To get turned on by flying. You fly all the time, every day, but it was a rare experience for me. And it always left me… wanting… more."

I slid against her, pulling her leg over my hip and settling myself against her center. "You weren't the only one. I've always wanted more when it comes to you. And I always will." I kissed her slowly. "I didn't think this would surprise a forward thinking woman like yourself."

"I guess I thought that since you were raised very conservatively that you would see such behavior as inappropriate."

"You mean as Clark or Superman?"

"Ok, wait. I never thought of you – Clark – in that way until a few years ago when I found out you were one and the same."

"Ouch. But fair enough."

She smiled. "And Superman has always been conservative. Such a boy scout. Doing the right thing. Not putting a toe out of line."

"Right, because having premarital sex which resulted in a child being born out of wed lock is the conservative way of doing the right thing.

She smirked at me.

"I'm just pointing out the facts," I explained.

"And I'm just saying that I thought of you differently."

"Sorry to burst your bubble."

"You didn't. Knowing the reality is _so_ much better than the fantasy."

I smiled. "Really?"

"Absolutely. Because that goody-two-shoes version of you would never do the wicked things the real you does to me in bed."

"I am always happy – and willing – to oblige all your wicked desires in bed, Lois."

"And I'm always happy – and willing – to be on the receiving end of any of those wicked maneuvers."

"Good," I grinned mischievously. "Because I have a whole list of scandalous things I'd like to try eventually."

Her hand stroked me intimately. "Like what?"

"Well…do you like… acrobats?"

"Only if you're the one taking me for a tumble," she purred.

And I proceeded to test out something I'd heard described a few years ago.


End file.
